


All of Me

by julesherondalex



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, Humor, Movie Night, Romantic Fluff, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-28
Updated: 2019-02-28
Packaged: 2019-11-07 00:30:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17950145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/julesherondalex/pseuds/julesherondalex
Summary: Elain and Azriel spend Valentine's Day together watching Elain's favorite movie series - about certain handsome, winged Fae. They start the night as friends, but Cupid might have other plans.





	All of Me

**Author's Note:**

> Surprise, surprise! It's me, with an Elriel one-shot up my sleeve. This time it's a modern AU - who would have guessed? Not me! Happy belated Valentine’s Day 💙

Elain had just turned off the oven, balancing the tray of delicious smelling brownies on one hand, when the doorbell rang. Her heart did a nervous little dance in her chest as she quickly put the tray on the stove and tugged on the bands of her rose-colored apron, discarding the material over her head. With a smile already blooming on her lips, Elain wiped her hands on the kitchen towel and smoothed back her hair – only to change her mind and puff it up to a messier look. She didn't need Az to think it had taken her hours to get that effortlessly put together look – which it totally had. Hell, she had even looked up a no-make-up makeup tutorial on YouTube.

Checking herself in the mirror one last time, Elain opened up to find her best friend at the threshold of her apartment. Looking as though he wanted her to die of a heat stroke.

She had wondered about how Az would show up when she considered her own outfit for the night. Would he come over in his low-hanging trainers and a dark shirt as he did sometimes when he felt particularly lazy? A gown would seem ridiculously overdressed next to that. Considering his usual attire, Elain had opted for tight leggings and a cute, pale-blue sweater dipping into a lower neckline than she was used to wearing.

But seeing Azriel now – Elain's belly filled with crazy butterflies at how handsome he looked. Crazy, mutant, he-is-so-gorgeous-my-stomach-is-hurting butterflies.

Azriel's toned legs were clad in dark jeans and he wore a navy button-down beneath his black leather jacket, fitting in all the right places and hiding the set of tight abs Elain remembered from trips to the beach and that one time when she had walked in on him changing his shirt.

 _Tonight isn’t a date_ , Elain reminded herself for what felt like the hundredth time.

But it was still the day of Valentine’s lovers and Elain couldn’t help but feel a little lightheaded, knowing Azriel had decided to give his clothing a little more thought. But then again, Az could have donned rags and still sported the look like a champ.

The two friends had discussed spending the evening together – a movie night as they occasionally did. None of them had addressed that their plans occurred to be on the 14th of February, though.

Elain told herself that she hadn’t wanted to spend Valentine’s Day alone; knowing what kind of plans her sisters were occupied with, doing all types of cute and romantic couple things with their boyfriends.

But not-so-deep within her the Archeron knew she had simply wanted to spend the day with Azriel – whether they were a couple or not. Not that she'd mind, exactly, having him as her boyfriend. Because, aside from her sisters, it was _him_ Elain liked most in this world. Azriel with his serene calmness, quiet humor and kind-heartedness. And this day was about spending time with your loved ones, wasn’t it? Elain loved Azriel, that was a given. Loved him whole-heartedly and without an ounce of doubt.

Elain returned to reality with a stifled sigh at the picture in front of her: Azriel hadn’t only dressed nicely for her but he had bought her favorite flowers, a bouquet of forget-me-nots, and she bet that bag held her most loved sweets in it. He knew these things about her like no one did – not even her sisters. Azriel paid attention to what she said, her habits and guilty pleasures – he paid attention to _her_. He _saw_ her. But maybe that was a pleasant side effect of his job.

Still, Elain liked to think she saw him too, having prepared his favorite brownies – the ones baked fudgy and with walnuts – and the German apple crumble pie he so loved and had once mentioned his mother baking for him when he was a child. She had even gone out in the cold, walking all the way to the little candy shop in town, to buy him a box of Turkish delight. For some reason he _really_ loved those.

Azriel's lips immediately curved into a private, warm smile when he beheld Elain. “Hey.”

“Az,” she greeted him with an awfully bright grin – hoping she didn't look like the hopelessly-in-love woman she was – eyes tracing his face before settling on the flowers. “You brought flowers!”

Azriel looked down at the bouquet, shrugging, as if not a big deal. “It’s Valentine’s Day, isn’t it? I thought flowers might be warranted.” He grinned at her, while Elain’s cheeks tinged pink. So he _was_ aware about what today might symbolize.

“Oh. Yeah, right. Thank you,” she offered sheepishly, and stepped aside to let the male in. Instead of handing her over the flowers, Azriel walked in, heading straight to the living room where he found himself a vase and made to put the violet beauties inside. He proceeded to shrug off his jacket next, and Elain knew exactly where he would place it after he'd folded it into a neat rectangle. Elain pushed off the door frame where she had watched him feeling visibly at ease in her home, and entered the kitchen once more to arrange the prepared brownies on a plate.

She heard Azriel come in – jacket already folded and hung over the armchair as always – and sniff.

“Wow, El, it smells delicious in here.”

Elain glanced at him from over her shoulder, seeing him eye the tray of apple pie, the bowl of popcorn and chips, while simultaneously trying to sneak a peek inside the hidden package still wrapped into the plastic bag.

She grinned before turning back to the cabinet, removing a plate. “You might want to unpack the bag,” she encouraged him, and was greeted by eager unpacking sounds almost immediately.

Azriel gave a surprised, throaty laugh when he beheld the box of Turkish delight. Elain was still fighting the urge to watch him looking all adorable and surprised over a box of sweets, when two strong arms embraced her from behind, settled over her waist and startled her. She could feel Azriel’s faint stubble scratch her cheek, when he gave her a quick, tight hug.

“Thank you, ‘Lain,” he mumbled, a smile in his voice and his breath tickling her skin, before withdrawing – leaving her surprised and suddenly cold without his warmth. If this was the reward for buying him sweets, then she would have to open him a whole damn candy shop next time he visited. _Just keep the hugs coming, detective, all nice and tight._

Regaining her composure, Elain tried to ignore how his embrace made her feel stupidly safe and cared for, and cleared her throat, leaning back against the kitchen unit now.

“I was in town and remembered you loving these. Not that I would ever see why,” she admitted, scrunching up her nose. Azriel was already peeling back the lid of the box, removing one of the sugary things. “More for me then,” Azriel replied, popping it into his mouth and winking at her.

Biting back her grin – and a hot flash, because _damn_ , that wink – Elain gathered the plate of brownies with the bowl of popcorn and chips into a tray, carrying it into the living room. She placed them next to where Azriel had put the vase of forget-me-nots on the coffee table, taking a moment to smell the beautiful flowers. She hadn’t even known Azriel was aware of her favorites. Or maybe it had been pure coincidence. Knowing Azriel, though, Elain doubted he left much to luck.

Az settled on the couch, draping one long, muscled arm across the back of it and the other cradling the box of Turkish delight close to him, and looked up at her expectantly.

“What?” Elain asked, placing her hands above her hips. Azriel grinned at her.

“Nothing. I’m just curious to see what your excitement was all about,” he pursed his lips, scratching his chin while feigning contemplation. “What was the movie called? A Court of Leaves and Blossoms? Courting Gardeners 101?”

Elain grabbed for the cushion with – gods help her – a leaf pattern printed atop it and threw it at his face. She would have hit just where she aimed – had Azriel not dodged it with ease. Classic.

“For a notorious criminal investigator, you’re awfully bad at remembering names, aren’t you, detective?” she teased and struck her tongue at him when he all but smirked smugly.

For all she knew, Azriel was brilliant – he rarely forgot details. That’s why he was so good at his job, always seeing clues where his colleagues overlooked them. Many cases where solved with Azriel remembering the smallest details and convicting alleged innocents or freeing wrongfully charged suspects. She highly doubted he had forgotten about the name of the movie series they were supposed to watch tonight.

Admittedly, she had nagged his ears off about this story, ever since they became close friends. She would have made him watch them earlier but for some reason her very favorite character had _startling_ similarities to her best friend. And considering how much she already confessed of her love for the fictional character, Elain feared Azriel might see right through her and connect her obsession for the dark winged male with her feelings toward himself.

But Azriel had kept asking they watch the movie together, and Elain felt increasingly stupid for her silly doubts. However, if he was to find out about her feelings for him, then maybe it was damn time. After all the months of pining, she almost _wanted_ him to know this one secret of hers. _Sigh_.

“Do you want to keep teasing me or are we going to start with that favorite movie of yours already?” Azriel pulled her out of her reverie, crooked grin on his face, all cut and chiseled like the Greek Gods had carved him themselves. She could have used one of Cupid’s arrows.

Elain rolled her eyes – he was in an awfully playful mood today. Not that she minded. She might actually love him even more for being so at ease with her, while usually reserved in company of others.

“As a matter of fact, it’s not only _one_ movie. The series as a whole is what I’d call my favorite,” Elain explained, setting up the DVD player and plunging next to her friend on the couch. “All right, Sherlock,” she turned to him with a mischievous grin while grabbing for the knitted blanket and spreading it over both of their laps. “Ready to figure out my beloved and most-disliked characters? I’ll take your guesses as we go.”

Azriel, that adorable lopsided grin still on his face, looked at her, eyes trailing over her features and taking in her expression. Elain’s heart jumped in her chest. He did that sometimes – taking his time to silently watch her without hiding it, almost as if to memorize the look on her face. When they had first gotten to know each other, Elain had wondered what it was about. Now, though, she knew it was just a part of him. Maybe that was another reason why he was good at his job – he took his time to actually _see_.

The moment was over sooner than Elain would have liked – she wouldn’t have minded having him stare at her face like that for the rest of the evening – before Azriel settled further into the sofa, getting comfortable. “I’m ready if you are.”

Elain was more than ready. She was ready to see some winged Fae-males kicking ass. So she pressed play.

…

“This one has got to be your least favorite for sure,” Azriel commented after three hours of silence, making Elain jump in her skin. She was enrapt by the movie, having forgotten she was supposed to take his bets over her favorite and hated characters. Especially now that they had gotten to the second movie in the series – which was an absolute masterpiece, plot and character-wise.

Elain turned to her friend, noting the distance between them had gotten smaller. She leaned even closer to him, almost brushing his shoulder. _Just making sure_ , she thought. If Cupid, by some miracle, decided to strike tonight, she wouldn't be taking chances with who Azriel would fall desperately in love with. One look at her face and he'd be a goner.

Maybe it was time for Elain to stop reading so many fantasy books.

Azriel was watching the movie as if inspecting one of his crime scenes, clearly taking this whole guessing-game seriously. The Archeron bit back an amused laugh and glanced at the television screen.

“The High Priestess?” she asked, curiosity beating her interest in watching undisturbed.

When Azriel nodded, she cocked her head at the blonde, hooded actress, currently acting all innocent and docile – two traits she was far from harboring in that wretched heart of hers. Elain wondered how Azriel had known this female was her least liked character of the whole series.

She popped one of Azriel's beloved sugary sweets into her mouth – having caved in almost an hour ago and wrestled the box out of his grip – when she felt Azriel’s stare. Noting his questioning expression, Elain shrugged and nodded. “She’s an evil sorceress.”

Az grinned, clearly pleased with himself for getting his first bet right.

“You haven’t guessed any of my favorites yet. What’s the deal Mr. I’m-Always-Right, lost confidence in your deducing skills?”

Azriel cast her one of his rare cocky grins, lifting his arm to the back of the couch once more and basically engulfing Elain in his musky scent. Suddenly she didn't feel like grinning her cocky grin. Her throat bobbed.

“Quite the opposite, actually. Since you were always so adamant to let me know what your favorite parts were in the second movie, I figured I just had to wait long enough to get my guesses right.”

Damn him for listening to her as good as he did.

Azriel could have seen the movie blindfolded and would still have known Elain’s very favorite character – she couldn’t help the little grin tugging on her lips and wiggling in her seat nervously as soon as the handsome, dark-haired actor with the brooding expression and gorgeous dark wings appeared on the screen. The male _beside_ her reacted immediately; he tensed and watched the scenery closely, his mouth set in a tight line. “This is your favorite then,” he deadpanned.

Elain clapped her hands a little too excitedly, beaming at Azriel. “Isn’t he the cutest?” she sighed, a dreamy look in her eyes.

Azriel crossed two bulging arms over his chest, clearly nonplussed. “He looks like he’s about to kill the next person who starts talking to him.”

Elain gave an amused squeal. “Right?!” she exclaimed still smiling, and turned to the actor on screen for further admiration. She barely noticed the disbelieving look Azriel shot her. Elain could tell Azriel was slightly irritated by her excitement for this fictional character, and silently wondered why it even bothered him. To her delight, her friend started to look awfully brooding himself now. She reached over and patted his cheek, the light stubble scratching her palm as she did.

“Don’t sulk, Az. He’s just fictional, isn’t he?” she taunted him, noting how his frown deepened into an even sulkier expression.

He answered with an unconvincing _huh_ and returned to watching the movie, dissecting every word – as rare as they might have been – Elain's favorite winged warrior uttered.

“What's with these wings? He looks like an overgrown bat,” Az uttered. Elain burst into laughter and returned to playfully fanning herself.

“I think the wings are hot.”

Azriel rolled his eyes but Elain could see the hints of a grin on his full lips. Inspecting said wings of the Fae warrior, he cocked one eyebrow. “You really are obsessed with this bat-guy, aren't you?”

“He's a _hot_ bat, you have to admit yourself. And I wouldn't say ‘obsessed’ per se,” Elain mused, drawing out the words. “It's more like a desperately devoted fondness,” she wiggled her brows at him, drawing an air-heart with her fingers.

“That's the definition of obsessing, you know.”

Azriel, now visibly amused, grabbed for her left hand and ruined her imaginary, I-would-die-for-this-winged-Fae-pulsating heart. Elain mock frowned at him, but secretly her very own, very vividly beating heart danced in her chest when her best friend didn't immediately let go of her hand, but took it between his large, scarred ones.

The ones he used to get his work done; grab a mug of bitter, black coffee; quite expertly cook his own meals; wash his gorgeous hair and other important parts of his body … Elain would have liked for holding her hand to be on this list of _What Azriel's Hands Do_.

She pinched herself in the side, jolting out of these glorious but forbidden thoughts regarding Azriel's hands.

 _What his hands do is none of my concern_ , she reasoned, but her fingers remained in his and she had no intention whatsoever to change this current, much-pleasing situation.

“What is it exactly you like about this male?” she found Az asking after a few minutes of him silently inspecting the Illyrian. He tried not to, but Elain knew him better than anyone else and, _hell_ , if he didn't sound _real interested_ in her answer. She leaned back, pleased and weirdly giddy inside.

“Well, let me see,” she contemplated, and started counting off her fingers. “For once, he's extremely polite _and_ kind. I love me some polite man.” Az was listening _closely_. Elain pictured him pulling out a notepad to jot down the new information about her dream male with nerdy glasses atop his face. It was ridiculous and absurd; Az was just naturally curious. But the image still had her giggling. Maybe it was the wine getting to her head.

“He's got that hard, tough exterior, acting all don't-mess-with-me-or-I'll-kill-you, but on the inside he's a little, soft cinnamon roll who has to be protected. I'm just volunteering as his protector, that's all,” her agitated explaining – hands gesturing wildly and all – got the better of her, leaving Azriel to stare with a strange expression in his eyes saying _wow, that was weird_.

Okay. She'd definitely had too much wine to drink. Now Elain was blushing like the roses on her small, vintage balcony. What better way to gloss over her awkward obsession with this dark male than to indulge into explanations even more?

“And he can wield shadows! Like, that's so cool. I'd love to do this,” – she twirled and flailed her arms in the air, making whooshing sounds with her mouth – “and scare them all shitless. He's called ‘shadowsinger’, for God's sake. That's a _pretty_ cool name if you ask me. It doesn't hurt he's so handsome. _And_ he's as dedicated and loyal as no one I know. Okay, maybe you're the only exception, but don't tell Cass I said that–” her rambling died abruptly when she realized one thing: Azriel was laughing.

Really, loudly laughing with tears pricking his eyes and him clutching his stomach.

Elain covered her furiously blushing face with her hands and rested her head against the couch – doing so, she touched Azriel's arm, having forgotten its existence there, but not regretting her decision to lay back. Not. The. Least.

“Ah, I've embarrassed myself, haven't I. Sorry. I think I'm a little drunk. Blame it on the alcohol,” she mumbled through the hand covering half her mouth. Azriel brought it down from her face, his lovely features popping up in front of her vision, a beautiful grin on his lips.

“You've had one glass. One. I think it's you, I need to blame for the behavior.”

He didn't let her cover her face again, so looking at him, Elain tried not to redden further, like a well-grown, overdue tomato.

“One? How do you even know? Oh, well. I have no excuses for my obsession. I think it might be the wings. They do things to me.” Azriel laughed again, eyes twinkling with delight. She liked making him laugh. The sound was suffocating and liberating all the same. Like a drug; you knew it'd feel like paradise the first few moments and you'd do anything to get a second dose. And a third. _More_.

“Just imagine you with wings. I think I'd die of a heart stroke.”

No laughter. Why didn't he laugh at this? Oh, wait. _Shit_.

Elain didn't even look at Az before scrambling for some explanation to why she just basically confessed her admiration for him. _I will drink no wine. Never again_.

“I mean, you know, he has black hair like you … and … his stature … you know?” _Very smooth, Elain. Real damn smooth_.

Az stared at her, strange expression on his face and head cocked to the side. Elain thought she saw something like disappointment settle in his eyes before he nodded, slowly.

“Yeah. I guess.” He cleared his throat and, “Lucky for me I don't have wings then. I wouldn't want my _physical_ beauty to be the reason for your stroke. Very sad way to die, don't you think?”

Elain didn't know whether he was trying to tell her something, and she was still quite hung up on his disappointed expression from just a few seconds ago.

“No. That's the best way I can think of ceasing my being,” she argued but without the conviction she had throughout their discussion.

What did he think of her shitty confession? She kind of regretted taking it back, for Elain longed to see where it would have lead them. If the disappointment in his face would still have appeared.

“Well, I'm glad your _favorite_ doesn't exist in real life then. He'd steal you from me, and I barely have you,” Az crossed his arms across his chest, making Elain's head fall fully back onto the cushion. She straightened and turned to stare at her best friend. What was that supposed to mean?

Az seemed to realize his slip because now it was his turn to blush. Only that him blushing meant an adorable grimacing expression accompanied by little color high on his cheeks. Elain would have sighed dreamily hadn't it felt so unfair. Why must he look handsome, even in embarrassment? While she felt like a hot tomato whenever she said something stupid or weird. Which seemed to be her favorite thing to be tonight. _On Valentine's Day for God's sake_.

Before Elain could question Az though, he scrambled on, “Besides, don't you think he's a little pathetic? To be lusting over the same female for centuries? She's clearly not interested and he's making a fool of himself staring as hard as he is.”

Elain gasped in mock outrage. “Don't you dare insult my precious shadowsinger, Az. He's devoted and romantic, not pathetic.”

“So you're saying that you approve him loving another person for 500 years? Isn't he trying a little too hard?” Az countered, genuinely interested in her opinion from the way he studied her face.

Elain relaxed her shoulders. “His situation is not … ideal, I'll admit that. I don't ship him with the Second in Command anyway. I think he'd be cute with the flower-grower,” she explained and shrugged as if she hadn't obsessively Googled fanart and fanfiction covering that exact relationship. He didn't need to know that. This night had been enough to reveal a great deal of the obsessive fangirl within Elain.

“You don't … what? Ship?” Az sighed. “I don't even want to know what that means. And this seer you're talking about? She's too innocent for that brute. Your shadowsinger would probably pine a few more decades until he admitted having feelings for that girl. She'd be better off without his pathetic ass,” Azriel retorted, eyes following the figures on the screen.

Elain groaned. “Stop insulting my fave!”

She swatted him across the chest, and before he could avoid it, poked her finger into his side, making him jump in surprise and a sharp inhale. Elain tried to poke him again, but Azriel reacted lightning-fast, capturing her fingers in his hand.

“Don't,” he threatened, suddenly having gone serious. Elain narrowed her eyes at him until it occurred to her: Azriel was ticklish. He saw the realization in her slowly brightening grin. Ha! There it was, the opportunity to approach her favorite drug of all time.

Before her friend could defend himself, Elain had begun to tickle him with her other hand, poking her fingers into his side over and over again until Azriel was hissing, spluttering and – finally – laughing beneath her fingertips.

They wrestled for a few moments, there on the couch; Elain trying to keep up her tickling while Azriel's naturally overwhelming strength quickly bearing down her own. With a twist of his body and his hands grabbing both of her wrists – Elain did not see it coming – she had been pushed back against the couch, arms above her head with Azriel's weight pressing down on her. She made a gasping noise, more out of surprise and the feeling of having his body so close to her own.

“ _Stop. Tickling. Me_ ,” Azriel breathed hard, the corners of his lips still turned into the trace of his laughter. His chest heaved against hers when he inhaled. Elain could all but stare up at him, completely dumbfounded.

“Okay,” she mumbled, dazed.

He was _so_ close. She would just have to tilt up her chin and …

Maybe her trail of thought was loud enough for it to be audible, or he had seen it straight through her eyes, because Azriel stiffened, his hazel orbs gliding slowly over her face and coming to rest on her plump lips – now quivering with the need to have him closer.

 _Oh Lord, please let him kiss me_ , she thought for the small eternity he stayed there – unmoving and hovering above her.

As if awakening from a dream, Azriel slowly let go of the air he had held onto, shook his head and brought his eyes back to her own caramel ones.

He cleared his throat and lifted himself clean off her body – going so far as to push away from her completely, to the other side of the couch.

Elain almost whined at the lost contact and progress of the night. They had been getting closer, slowly but surely. Not just physically but Elain had never been this close to confessing as she had been today. Hell, she had even admitted some of her love-ridden thoughts to him. With Azriel withdrawing like that, it felt like their progress was lost. And she wasn't quite sure she could be brave enough to start anew.

This night was supposed to be an eye opener for him. She had baked him his favorite desserts, donned his favorite, pale-blue sweater, and making him watch her favorite fictional character on screen was like holding up a mirror in front of him. She didn't know what else to do besides just straight up telling him the truth about her feelings.

Instead of straightening, Elain stayed where she was, not even hiding the fact she was breathless from his close proximity, and listened to Azriel breathing. Almost as raggedly as her heart thumped in her chest.

When she could feel her bones again, she turned toward the TV, hugging her arms close to her chest. She still felt where Azriel's hands circled her wrists.

As dizzy as she was, it didn't take her long to yield to the need of closing her eyes under the pretense of _relaxing_ them for a second. Even as she felt sleep slowly taking over her, long after her heart's beating and Azriel's breathing had returned to normal, Elain didn't bother trying to stay awake. Not even for the sake of her shadowsinger.

…

She must have forgotten to close one of the windows because a warm breeze had stolen inside her apartment and was now stroking the skin of her cheek. It felt nice. Elain sighed. It even tickled a little. Almost like skin on skin.

With her conscience returning slowly but surely to her body, Elain realized she must have fallen asleep watching the movie. Though she was almost positive she hadn't opened the window before that and February wasn't supposed to be serving warm breezes anyway.

And wind usually didn't feel like scarred fingers across your skin.

Her eyes fluttered open. The first thing they beheld was the TV, paused at the credits of the finished movie. She had slept through it.

Slowly Elain turned her head, eyes moving to the fingers now hovering above her face as if frozen in time. She followed the strong hand to the muscular arm and the wired-tight body attached to it – coming to look right into the soft hazel eyes of her best friend at last. Azriel returned her stare, unable to avert his eyes. His whole existence seemed to have stilled under her attention.

Elain swallowed, voice raw with unpent tension.

“Why did you stop?” she murmured. She must have still been half asleep to say something like that.

And yet she watched Azriel’s throat bob and the thoughts practically run wild inside that brilliant brain of his. Then he continued touching her face with his gorgeous fingers.

Elain's eyes fluttered closed and she exhaled, loving the feeling of his skin on her own. Her nerves were on high alert – every stroke of his fingers sent sharp impulses through her skin right to her bones. _This feels like he's touching my heart with his fingertips_ , Elain thought, amazed. If this light touch on her cheek felt like she had discovered a whole new world of sensations, she would have to physically remove her body from his if he ever _really_ touched her. With the most primal intention.

Just as her cheeks began to pink – thinking of all the way Azriel could touch her – Elain felt the couch dip beneath her, and snapped her eyes open.

Azriel had moved closer to her, leaning slightly over her curled body to dive his hand into her soft golden curls. Autopilot-mode unfurled inside Elain, taking control and twisting her body so that it faced Azriel’s. _If he were to come even closer_ , Elain thought _, I could wrap myself around him and he'd have to peel me from his form like peeling a banana_.

She felt his hands tremble as they wandered through her hair, almost like this was what they were made for and he was coming to realize the same thing.

But Elain knew anything he did with those hands of his – _anything_ – they would always be the perfect fit.

His eyes were trained on her face, anywhere but her eyes or her lips. Elain tried to make him look at her and see this – acknowledge the chemistry between them. She wanted him to see her, not only as his best friend but _more_.

Azriel was a patient man – oh, she knew. But even the most forbearing people had a strain limit. Especially when people like Elain were keen on breaking that hell of a patience.

Elain knew her friend, and she was accustomed to the way he couldn't resist eye contact for long – always reading them to _know_. He had to know what she was thinking, what she was wanting.

So when he finally looked into her eyes again, Elain was thinking _kiss me kiss me kiss me_ with every living cell of her brain and willing to laser her thoughts into his mind with her imaginary laser-stare. It seemed to work because Az’s gaze slid over her features, only to focus on her lips.

If this moment wasn't one of the most tension-filled in Elain's life, she would have started laughing, triumphantly, and exclaiming _Ha,_ _I just lasered my thoughts into your brain_. _It worked._ But now that Azriel focused on her lips like they were water and he was a man in the desert, dying of thirst – her own mouth had gone very dry, very soon, too.

Almost in reaction to his stare, the Archeron licked her lips – eliciting a low, deep rumble from Azriel's throat, contorting his features as if in pain.

He leaned even closer like the image had sucked the last of resolve out of him. When he met her eyes again and beheld the invitation in them, it was pure nature that the distance between them closed – soft, full lips planting themselves on rosy, plump ones.

Elain's mouth met his as if they were used to kissing him – not needing any introduction on how to move against each other. She knew she had spent long enough staring at them – literal pieces of art – her lips had memorized his over time, mapping out the ridges and silkiness. Apparently he had, too.

It was the most wonderful thing to be kissed like that. Like there wasn't a part of her Azriel hadn't seen, and he still couldn't get enough. He sighed against her, breathed air into her lungs and Elain didn't want it to stop. She wanted to _live_ in that kiss, to breathe it in.

Her arms had wound themselves around his neck. Not like in the movies, loose and at ease, romantic and shy touches against the nape of his neck and the silk of his hair.

No, she couldn't have pulled him closer if she tried. Her hands were clawed into his hair and the back of his shirt, and she was trying to drink him in, drink him up, another glass and another shot.

She felt like crying and laughing at the same time, constantly dying and being resurrected by his kiss. And maybe she was reading one too many books, but kissing Azriel felt like she could grow wings and fly them both right into the pages of her favorite book, visiting all the beautiful fictional places she could only ever read and never see.

She was sighing and whimpering half the time they spent there on that heavenly couch, lips locked together. It was ridiculous. How had she missed all of this for two whole years? She should have jumped him the very first day they met. Oh God, and now – now he was smiling against her lips like her sighs were amusing him. She sighed again. She couldn't help herself.

 _If this is a dream_ , Elain thought dizzily, _I will start wielding shadows by sheer will and haunt whoever wakes me up for the rest of their lives_.

Azriel tried to pull back, but Elain held him to her. His lips were her hostages and she was no fool to let them slip away from her easily. He kissed her, again and again, this time sloppy and lazily, pulling back after every kiss to see if she was satisfied enough to let him breathe for a second. She wasn't. Elain felt like a madwoman.

“I wonder,” he began speaking against her lips, having given up on trying to dislodge himself from her. “What would your perfectly composed shadowsinger think of you like this? A woman out of control once I kiss her.” Elain's eyes opened, staring right into Azriel's – they were shining and twinkling like he had jumped right out of a Disney movie. He would have been the handsome, charming prince, of course.

Still refusing to let go of him completely, Elain began to smother his cupid's bow and chin with her kisses. Ah, there. Cupid had arrived tonight, after all. No need for arrows anymore though.

“You know,” she said between two kisses, “I still think his wings would suit you.”

Azriel rasped out a dark chuckle. “In your dreams, Archeron.”

“Hmm, nice dream. I'll think about that later. Maybe you could dress up for Halloween? You could go as the shadowsinger and I'd be your flower girl,” she countered sweetly, her cheeky grin against his cheekbone where her lips continued their wandering.

Azriel exhaled slowly, his hands brushing her sides and making her squirm.

“Wouldn't be much of a disguise for you, don't you think?” He tried not to sound as breathless as Elain knew he was. She smirked.

“Then I'll just get my own wings.”

Azriel's arms wound themselves around her body, lifting her from the couch and hugging her closer to his firm statue. Elain's eyes almost rolled back at feeling him like that. He pressed a kiss to her temple as if their closeness didn't bewitch him completely.

“Please don’t,” he mocked, “I can't handle you with wings. You're irresistible enough.” A kiss against the shell of her ear. Elain shivered.

“Oh yeah? I can't be too irresistible when it took you so long to act on it.” Elain retorted, quite embarrassingly out of breath. She didn't care, because she didn't feel like needing air right now.

Az squeezed her side and nuzzled his face into her neck, starting to kiss her there. When Elain began to pant slightly, she could clearly feel his pleased smirk against her skin.

“Maybe this was one of your ‘slow burn’ stories all along?”

Elain gasped in surprise now. “You snooped my searching history, didn't you?”

Azriel chuckled, clearly not feeling guilty at all. “You lent me your laptop last week, remember? If I were you, I'd delete my searching results before borrowing my laptop to a crime investigator. He may see all the naughty fanfiction you read and assume you're a naughty girl.”

“Did you really read all the fanfiction stories?” Elain asked incredulously.

“Canon _and_ AU,” Azriel confirmed. There. Another proof for Azriel's brilliance. It had taken Elain weeks to realize what these things actually meant.

She took his face between her hands, kissing his mouth once, before dedicating herself to the mission of kissing down his jaw line. So sharp her lips might starting to bleed.

“I like it when you talk fangirl to me,” she mumbled against his skin. At the same time, her heart warmed at the picture of Azriel reading the stories she had read herself, just because he cared. If it had been anyone else sneaking about her guilty fanfiction pleasure, she might have been embarrassed to the bone, scandalized even. But she knew Az hadn't tried to control or spy on her. And she trusted him blindly, with any secret. Well, except for one, very obvious truth about her.

“Huh,” Az muttered, “what was that again? I think I _ship_ us.”

Elain bit her lip to stop herself from grinning. Ridiculous. This man was a goddamn treasure. “ _Oh lord_. Yes. I ship us so hard, I submarine us.”

“You just _have_ to outdo me every time, don't you?” Az sighed in mock exasperation.

“Me? Outdoing you? In my dreams. You're perfect. How can you be so perfect and still end up with me here, on the couch?” Elain requested. “You could have anyone you wanted, don't you know?” And that was true. Azriel could have had an all-legs-tall blonde wrapped around his pinkie in no time. Someone like Mor. Someone _exactly_ like Mor. Elain laughed, though it sounded unnecessarily nervous and forced.

Az pulled back, much to Elain's dismay, to properly look at the flower-grower in his arms. He brought a finger under her chin, tilting her head enough so she'd have to look at him.

“I'm here with the only person I want. The only person I have wanted ever since I met her,” he said, eyes keen on not leaving hers. Maybe he was trying to laser-stare his thoughts into her mind as well.

“I would love to call this perfect creature mine. Do you think we could arrange that? Despite the lack of wings?” He sweetly kissed the tip of her nose as if he hadn't just destroyed her for every other male on this planet.

Hearing those words from his lips was what had Elain dreaming these past months, hell, _years_. She hadn't even realized that the more time passed, the less hope remained for her to ever hear him say something like that.

Maybe that was why stupid tears pricked at her eyes, and left a trail down her left temple. Azriel bent to kiss her tears away.

“That's the perfect arrangement, I think. Really great. Love it. Absolutely dreamy. Perfect,” she sniffed, heart beating like crazy against her chest.

  Azriel nudged her nose with his, Eskimo-kissing her. “Perfect,” he mumbled, voice deepening to something sweet and soothing. Something tender and vulnerable. “You know I am in love with you, right? Since the day we met. I am in love with you. It feels so good to say it. _I love you_.”

Elain looked up at this man, heart stuck in her throat and more tears welling up in her eyes. There were almost no secrets between them left. Almost. Only one.

“I love you, Azriel. I've loved you forever. And now there are no secrets left. You know all of me.”

No emotion could describe the liberating feeling of having said those words at last and even less, the spark of light in his eyes as he watched her hand over the very last piece of herself to him.

“You have all of me.”

**Author's Note:**

> There's this song called 'Common' by my favorite singer Zayn, and it's the perfect Elriel tune for me. Go listen if you want to hear one of my inspirations for this story!


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